


We'll Have Tomorrow

by questceque_cest



Category: Glee, Little Shop of Horrors (1986)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Horror, Cutting, Domestic Violence, Drug Use, Flowers, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 16:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questceque_cest/pseuds/questceque_cest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of the musical "Little Shop of Horrors". No previous musical knowledge required.</p><p>Sam, a down-on-his-luck florist, obtains a strange and unusual plant with a thirst for blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act I

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** Domestic Violence and Self-harm, kind of. 
> 
> **A/N** : I took some artistic licensing with the ending as it deviates from both the musical and the movie. Also, by no means were my intentions to villainize or character-bash in this fic, I just wrote as I saw fit for the original story and characters.

_Ding._

The door to Hudson’s Lima Heights Florists swung open at exactly 11 a.m. as a young man rushed in, breathless. He ran over to his desk and shed his coat, flinging it over the back of his chair. He released a breath in a tiny huff and sat down, surveying the store sheepishly.

From across the room, Sam Evans was sweeping up the floor, pushing dead flower petals and soil into the corner with a dilapidated broom. He looked up and smiled at the other man, who was brushing powder across his flushed cheeks.

“You’re two hours late, Kurt Hummel. Hudson is totally gonna have your ass if you’re not careful,” Sam warned, laughing at Kurt’s look of contempt.

Kurt rolled his eyes and turned back to his compact. “Finn will understand, I’m sure. Besides, I just got a little tied up this morning.” He closed his mirror and slid it in the desk drawer. “Where is Mr. Hudson anyway?”

“Trying to call around for business. It sucks, man, we haven’t had a customer all morning.” Sam leaned the broom against the wall and sat on the windowsill. 

Sam had worked for Hudson’s Lima Height Florists down in Lima Heights Adjacent for years now. Growing up, Sam was extremely poor. Destitute, even. He had lived in Lima, mostly on the streets, with his parents and two younger siblings. When he was thirteen, he was lucky enough to stumble upon Burt Hudson of Hudson’s Florists who was looking for a young boy to help around the shop; someone to help plant various flowers and arrange bouquets -- typical grunt work. The prospect of earning some money was so tempting for a young boy on skid row, so he took the job with a lot of urging from his family. He was determined to make the Evans family proud. Burt promised that Sam could live in the basement of the shop free of charge as long as he remained a loyal and dutiful worker. As the years went by, Burt suffered from two heart attacks and was unable to manage the flower shop on his own. He instituted the help of his son, Finn, to take over the store. While Finn was dopey, he was also kind of a jackass, giving Sam unwarranted stress throughout his day. It wasn’t uncommon for Finn to refer to Sam as worthless in passing, or give him double the amount of work as other employees.

Sam looked over at Kurt, the secretary for Hudson’s Florists. The twenty-two year old brunet was gorgeous; beautifully coiffed hair, soft skin, and full pink lips. When Finn first hired the boy two years ago, Sam was taken aback. He didn’t know people who looked like _that_ lived in Lima Heights -- people like him belonged in movies and television with their name up in lights. He knew that Kurt would never be interested in someone like Sam, someone whose hair was always untidy and whose only source of entertainment was reading comic books he found in recycling bins from alleyways.

“So, uh, what were you doing this morning? Just, so I know before Finn gets here,” Sam asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

Kurt blushed as his lips twitched into a slight frown. “Oh. I was with David last night. I guess we stayed out a bit too late and I overslept. Nothing else,” he said slowly as he idly flipped cards through the rolodex on the desk. 

“David? Oh, that’s cool, dude. You’re lucky to be dating someone so well off, Kurt. It’s not every day someone snags a _dentist_ in Lima Heights.” Sam fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, scuffing his sneakers on the floor. The topic of Kurt’s boyfriend, David Karofsky D.D.S, was always a source of contention amongst the two. 

Kurt inspected his fingernails and hummed in agreement. “Yeah. It’s not that great, sometimes.”

Before Sam could push the issue, Finn stumbled into the store front, glowering at the secretary. “Nice of you to show up, man,” he sneered at Kurt. “You can’t continue being two hours late. I can totally fire your ass.”

“Sorry, _Mr. Hudson_ , it won’t happen again. I was tied up with David,” Kurt snapped.

Finn groaned. “That guy again? Look, he seems okay or whatever but you’ve gotta stop letting him interfere with your work.”   

“Well, it’s not like we have customers, Mr. Hudson,” Sam spoke up. Kurt smiled graciously at the other boy while Finn just glared.

“Whatever. Sam, can you do me a favor? I need you to deliver a bouquet of roses to this address,” he said, handing Sam a business card with Finn’s messy handwriting scrawled across. “It’s for a Miss. Emma Pillsbury.” Finn handed Sam a wilting bouquet of flowers, hanging limp in the cellophane.

Sam carefully cradled the roses in his arms and turned to Kurt. He was going to make a quip -- “Don’t miss me too much, Kurt” -- but the phone began to rang. Kurt answered -- “Hello, Hudson’s Lima Heights Florists,” -- and immediately began to giggle, twirling the phone cord around his finger. “Oh, David, _stop_.”

Dejected, Sam turned and headed out the door with a _ding_. He mounted his bicycle and pedaled towards the address on the card. After giving the sad looking flowers to a perky redhead, he rode down main street. Sam had some time to spare, so he headed towards his favourite store -- Chang’s Wholesale Flowers. He parked his bike outside the shop and went inside, the glass door swinging open with the wind.   

“Hello, Mike,” Sam called as he entered. From behind the counter, a tall man with jet black hair grinned and waved him over.   

“Hey, Sam. How’s it going?”

  “It’s okay, kinda slow though. Got anything new or cool for me?”

  Mike shook his head. “Sorry Evans, I have nothing that you’d like. Nothing exotic or anything.”

“Oh,” Sam pouted. “That’s cool. I’ll talk to you later, man. Finn’ll murder me if I’m late.” Sam rapped his knuckles on the counter and headed towards the door.

Suddenly, the light from the store faded as dark shadows covered the whole vicinity, stretching and curling around the boy’s faces. 

  “What the hell?” Sam asked as he looked outside the door and up at the sky, which was completely black with a white ring circling around the sun. “That’s totally an eclipse of the sun! That’s messed up, that wasn’t in the news.”

“Huh?”

  “What? Astronomy is cool, man,” Sam teased, snorting. 

  From the corner of the store, an electronic humming began to overtake the normally quiet shop. Mike stumbled over towards the sound, tripping over bags of soil and discarded flower pots.

“What’s that” Mike asked

Sunlight began to shine through the store as the eclipse ended and Sam gasped, staring at the plant in front of Mike. A venus fly trap that was bright green with long, sharp teeth sat in a bright terra cotta pot.

 “I never noticed this before! Damnit Mike, you totally lied to me,” Sam exclaimed, running over and picking up the pot, eyeing the plant intricately. This fly trap was gorgeous, unlike anything he had ever seen. 

  Mike scratched his head, looking bewildered. “I swear I didn’t know I had that. You want it? You can have it for two bucks.”   

Sam dug into his pocket and pulled out a handful of change. “It looks like I only have $1.95?” he asked, hopeful.   

Laughing, Mike nodded. “Sure, Sam. Enjoy your new plant. You gonna name that beast?”

Looking thoughtful, Sam fingered a leaf between his thumb and middle finger. “Yeah, I have an idea.”

He left Chang’s Wholesale Flowers and placed the plant in the basket of his bicycle. He pedaled as hard as he could back to the florist shop, eager to show Kurt and Finn his new prize. The whole ride back, he stared down at the plant, admiring its lengthy tendrils peppered with small leaves.

Sam pulled up to the store and thrust open the door grinning a dopey smile.   “Look what I got! I bought it from Mike for only, like, _two bucks_.”

Intrigued by Sam’s exuberance over a dumb plant, Finn and Kurt wandered over to inspect the specimen.   

“Oh my God, that thing is so _creepy_ ,” Kurt squealed, turning up his nose at the plant. Finn just grinned and clapped Sam’s shoulder.   

“Dude, this rocks. I bet if we put this thing in the window, someone is bound to come in and maybe buy some shit. What’s this plant called anyway?”

Sam blushed slightly and bit his lip. “Well, Mike didn’t know the name of it, but I call it Kurt II. After you,” he admitted, looking up at Kurt. The other boy broke out into a shy smile, his face turning red in color.   

“Really? Sam,” he said softly, “that’s ridiculously sweet of you. Thank you.” He rubbed his hand delicately along Sam’s biceps, causing a whole gaggle of butterflies to flit around in Sam’s stomach. 

Sam placed Kurt II in the window, directly in the sunlight.

Within an hour, a buzz created outside as customers walked into the store, all inquiring about the venus fly trap. Sam recount the story in which he acquired Kurt II, looking over to Kurt every time he mentioned the name of the plant. The other boy just beamed at him, running his long fingers along the scarf covering his neck as he sat on his secretary’s desk. 

For the next couple days, Hudson’s Lima Height Florists was the most populated store in all of Lima Heights Adjacent. Customers would bustle in and out of the shop, all gawking at the amazing Kurt II. Patrons were snatching up bouquets and floral arrangements by the dozen. Finn’s enthusiasm could not be contained.

“This is friggin‘ amazing, I owe you one, man,” Finn smacked Sam’s arm with the back of his hand as he gazed upon the shop full of customers, beaming ecstatically. Sam’s eyes wandered over to where Kurt was ringing up patrons and happily chattering, his lilting laughter radiating through the store. 

Sam ignored the ache in his chest at the brunet’s euphonious voice and made his way into the back room to grab a watering can. He was shocked when he went over to water his prized plant and noticed its leaves were dry and drooping, its massive head hanging limp against the pot. 

  “Oh shit, no,” Sam said under his breath as he attempted to prop up its head, “don’t die on me.”

He spilled half the contents of the can into the pot, but nothing seemed to perk up Kurt II from its near-death state. For the remainder of the day, Sam stood by the plant’s side, praying that it would pull through, constantly ripping open packets of plant food to push into the soil.   

Sam was so wrapped up in his concerns of Kurt II’s well being, he was oblivious of the actions of the real Kurt. The secretary was admiring himself in his compact mirror, his eyes flitting towards his neck. Sam watched as Kurt adjusted his scarf, showing flashes of dark bruising across his pale skin. He winced and tried not to think how Kurt received them, although he was pretty confident he knew _who_ did the damage. What really drew him to the other boy was his singing; Kurt, with every rearrangement of the neckerchief, was humming along to some melody, high notes trailing from his lips. Sam listened in awe at how ethereal the boy sounded.   

“Wow, um, you’re really good,” he confessed with a blush.

Kurt turned to him and wrinkled his nose, raising an eyebrow. “You think? No one’s ever said I was actually good. Singing is just something I do for myself.”

Sam stood up, cradling Kurt II in his arms, and made his way over to Kurt. “No, yeah, you’re really talented. You should, like, leave this stupid city and go sing somewhere.” 

  Kurt looked at Sam with dispirited smile. “I dream about leaving this _place_ and traveling to New York to be on Broadway. But,” he sighed, “when you grow up in Lima Heights you’re here for the long run.” He leaned over and pulled his jacket over his shoulders.

“Besides, I do have David,” he mumbled, looking down. He exhaled and flashed Sam a weak smile. “‘Night.” Kurt ruffled the boy’s blond hair and made his way to the door.

“I want to leave too, you know,” he called, stopping Kurt in his tracks. “I wanna live in New York and draw comic books. Look,” Sam said, reaching into his desk drawer. He placed Kurt II down before he thrust pages of sketches, all of half colored superheroes and buildings, into Kurt’s hands. Kurt’s face broke out into a fond grin as his eyes traced over the drawings.

“You’re really talented, Sam. Far too talented to be Finn Hudson’s bitch at this flower shop,” Kurt laughed, clicking his tongue. He held up one piece of paper questioningly. “I wore this outfit last week. Is this supposed to be me?”   

Sam coughed. “I, uh, yeah? If you want, I mean I guess so,” he sputtered.   

Kurt cooed, “You are too sweet, Sam Evans. Can I keep this?”

Nodding furiously, Sam broke out into a cheshire cat-like smile. “Yeah man, of course.”

“Good. I would have stolen it away anyway if you said no. You should sign it, in case you become famous someday.” He held out the paper in front of Sam, snagging a pen from the desk.

Beaming, Sam scrawled his signature at the bottom with an accompanying smiley face.

“Thanks,” Kurt leaned in and gave Sam a quick peck on his cheek. “‘Goodnight, Sam.”

Sam watched as Kurt made his way out the door and down the street towards his apartment. His chest fluttered from the contact of Kurt’s soft lips, but Sam was still unsettled, knowing Kurt was sure to meet up with David that evening. Disheartened, Sam trudged down towards the basement to his room, bringing Kurt II along. He shoved some more sketches, crayons, and dead flower stems from his desk and set the plant down firmly. 

  “Twoey, what am I going to do with you?” he groaned wearily, thumbing its crumbling leaves. “Don’t die on me, dude, I need you. _Kurt_ and I need you to get out of here.” Sam placed another package of plant food in the soil and waited for something ( _anything_ ) to happen. Kurt II just slunk down further in the pot as two leaves fell from a vine. 

“Shit, come on,” Sam banged his hands against the desk in frustration. He began to shove things off his workstation, looking for something to feed this stupid plant. “What the hell do you want from me anyway?”

_Prick._

Sam brushed his fingers past a discarded rose stem on the desk, the thorn picking his thumb. He gasped as blood began to well from the puncture. 

  “Ow, holy shit. _Ah_ ,” he cringed, sucking his thumb into his mouth. He looked down at Kurt II and his eyes widened in horror when he observed the plant’s mouth opening smoothly.   

“What the...” Sam faded as he watched the plant strain its bulbous head towards his thumb. Curiously, Sam moved his bloody finger in front of Kurt II and gulped when it stuck out its tongue toward the liquid.   

“Oh, this is so frickin’ gross,” he exclaimed, shuddering. “You want _blood_? Shit, there is no way.” He rifled through his nightstand in search of a bandage. When he pulled the package from the drawer, Sam turned around and looked at Kurt II, his mouth still wide open, waiting. 

_If Twoey lives, I’ll make so much money that I can totally get out of here and bring Kurt along with me..._

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Sam said, bemused. He squeezed his finger above the plant’s open mouth, watching as droplets of blood pooled in Kurt II’s mouth. Sam recoiled when the plant happily lapped up the liquid, its vines and leaves moving on their own volition. 

Within seconds, the vibrant green color returned to the plant as it grew two inches in height. Kurt II looked so happy, its previous failure to thrive quelled.

Sam knew what he had to do to keep Kurt II alive.

For the next couple weeks, Kurt II began to grow remarkably overnight, thanks to Sam’s feedings. Every night, when Hudson’s Florists closed, Sam would take the plant to his room in the basement and inflict some sort of wound upon his skin, letting Kurt II suck the blood for nourishment. He knew this was just so wrong, but with every inch the plant grew, Sam believed it was worth it, if this would take him out of Lima.

Hudson’s Florists was gaining a lot of local Lima attention. Customers were flocking to the store, newspaper articles were being written about the wondrous plant, and Sam was asked to appear on guest spots of local radio stations, like WGLE.

On every interview, Sam was always asked the same question -- _“How do you feed Kurt II, Sam?”_. He would always nervously reply with, “Oh, it’s, um, a special formula. It’s not that hard to find, though.” There was no way he could admit to anyone the lengths at which he would go to feed this plant. 

One night, Sam was cleaning up the mess of the day, rearranging the tubes of cellophane and organizing the ribbons back into their drawers.   “Sam,” said a quiet voice from behind, “your hands.” Sam turned around and saw Kurt reaching for his palm. He shuddered as Kurt gingerly ran his fingers along the multiple bandages covering his fingers, palms and wrists. “What happened?”

A breath caught in his throat. “Oh, just some rose thorns. I’m just, like, super klutzy,” Sam laughed as he exhaled.   

Kurt shot him a questioning look. “If you say so. Just be careful in the future, we don’t want you getting hurt.” A shy smile played on his lips as he moved away to glide his fingers through his stylized hair. 

  “You look really good. Uh, nice.” Sam said, eyeing the fluid way Kurt moved as he primped. 

  “Oh, you like? I have a very important date with David tonight. Normally he hates the way I dress -- says it’s tacky and feminine,” he sighed as he pressed out the creases in his suit pants, “but tonight I’m changing things up for him. I just want to make him happy.”   

Sam coughed, uncomfortable with all of this talk of Kurt’s boyfriend. 

“He’s a jerk, Kurt. David, I mean,” Sam said slowly. “I think you dress awesome and he’s a dick to think otherwise. You should do things for you.” 

  Kurt looked down, fiddling with the zipper on the side of his coat. “I know,” he said sadly, “but sometimes I just know that the worse he treats me, the more he loves me.”

Sam scoffed -- that was such _bullshit_ \-- and was about to challenge Kurt on the subject when through the door strode David Karofsky. He was tall in stature, much taller than Finn, and burly, with short brown hair and piercing eyes. David pushed past Sam towards Kurt.   

“Hey baby, how are you?” He enveloped Kurt in a tight hug, planting a kiss against his temple. He drew back, holding Kurt’s wrist limp in his hand. “You look a lot better than normal, Kurt. I’m glad you finally listened to me. Some guys just don’t know when to take a hint, huh Evans,” David laughed turning to face Sam, who stood there glowering with his arms held tense at his sides. 

“Please, David, you know I always look good,” Kurt tried, his voice airy.

Sam nodded confidentially at the other boy but was taken aback when David’s harsh voice ripped through the air.

David glared down at his boyfriend. “No you don’t, babe. You look better when you dress _normal_.” He spun around, eyes wide, when he noticed Kurt II. “Holy _fuck_ ,” David gasped as he eyed the plant in the corner of the store, its height at almost five feet. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s a venus fly trap. The Kurt II,” Kurt beamed, looking over at Sam.   

David scoffed. “That’s a stupid name for a plant. This thing is massive, though. You should take it and get out of Lima Heights, kid,” he said to Sam. 

“Yeah,” Sam faded, looking over to Kurt. 

David exhaled sharply and grabbed Kurt’s wrist hauling him out of the store. “Come on.”   “Bye, Sam!” Kurt called, as David yanked him forward. 

Sam flicked his wrist in a small wave. “Later,” he said, mostly to himself. He dragged a retractible knife across the counter. Irritated that he would have to inflict another wound upon his skin, he held the blade inches from his palm. Just as he was about to make an incision, Sam heard a rustling from the back room.

Finn lumbered out of the room, hesitantly. “Hey Evans, what was all that about?”

“Kurt just left with his, uh, his David.”

“Ugh, really? Dude has got to get a new boyfriend, I don’t trust Karofsky,” Finn spat out, crossing his arms. “Did you know that guy is, like, high all the time? I heard he gases up on nitrous all day long to do cleanings. Plus, visiting his office hurts like a fucking bitch. That dude is rough with your mouth, Jesus.” He looked at Sam, anxiously. “I heard him say something about you leaving Lima?”

Sam quirked an eyebrow in Finn’s direction. “Yeah, he said I should try to leave with Twoey, cause like our store has a ton of money now and I can do better things with my life than work here. No offense.”

“What did you want to do outside of Lima?” Finn questioned, sliding a stiff arm around the boy. 

  “I like to read comics and I like drawing. I’ve always wanted to do that. In New York,” he admitted.

Finn inhaled sharply and grimaced. He shook his head and started slowly, “Sam, man, how would you like to be partners with me? My dad is old and he can’t manage to run the store by himself. He gave me total ownership and suggested that you are made partner with me. Hell, he’ll even adopt you if you want. Think about it,” Finn said, holding his hand out in front of them, “The Hudson Brother Florists. Pretty sweet, huh?”

Perplexed, Sam backed away. “But, for years you’ve treated me like such crap, always yelling and saying I was trash and stuff. Why would I do this?”

Flashing a faux smile, Finn moved closer, towering over Sam. “Don’t you want a family again, man? Remember how great that can feel? Plus, you’ll be getting more money now. Stay here in Lima with me and Burt.”

Begrudgingly, Sam nodded. “The sound of Sam Hudson does sound kinda cool.”

Finn punched Sam’s shoulder in jest. “There we go, man. I’ll go call Burt and we can draw up some adoption papers of whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow. _Brother_.” He left the store with a flourish, leaving Sam standing with the knife still in hand. 

He turned around to face Kurt II and noticed its tendrils were wilting and its head bowed.   

“Aw, come on Twoey, I don’t have much more blood left in me for you.” He stepped forward, brandishing the knife. “Lemme heal for like a day, okay? Then we can start up on the left hand again if you want.”

Sam turned and headed towards the stairs towards his room, when he heard a dark voice echo through the store, freezing him in his place.   

“Feed me.”

Sam spun around and gaped at Kurt II. “Uh, what the hell did you just say?”

“Feed me!” Kurt II’s mouth opened, emitting this dark, booming voice. “Feed me Evans, feed me now. I’m _starving_.”

“Holy shit you can fucking talk! Twoey, I told you, I have like nothing left in me. I’ll stop by the butcher’s shop and pick you up something nice and bloody, okay?”

Sam made his way to the door but was stopped when one of the long vines from Kurt II slide across the floor, up the door, and wrapped itself around the handle, blocking Sam from leaving. 

“Come on, man,” Sam whined. 

  “Must be blood. Must be fresh, Sam,” Kurt II’s silky voice crooned. “Come on, boy, I need to grow up big and strong.”   

“But, you eat blood, Kurt II. What am I supposed to do, go around killing people?”

Kurt II cackled, its tendrils working their way around Sam’s legs. “I’ll make it worth your while, kid. You think this is all a coincidence? The sudden success around here? Your _adoption papers_? I’ll make sure you get everything that your little heart desires.”

“I dunno, dude. I don’t want to become a murderer, that isn’t me.” Sam folded his arms across his chest in defiance. Kurt II slid a vine around his shoulder in a pseudo-hug. 

“Look, Sam. You didn’t have nothing till you met me. So, what do you want? Money? Girls? _Guys_?” Kurt II smirked as Sam’s face flushed. “How about that Kurt Hummel?” The plant chuckled as it felt Sam tense up under its grasp at the mention of Kurt’s name. “I’m positive that the more fame I bring to you and your _establishment_ , Kurt would fall head over heels. Then, you two can be on your way to New York, happily ever after.”

Sam frowned deep in thought. “I _would_ love to be able to get out of here and become an artist. You really think Kurt would fall in love with me?”   

“No doubt in my mind, boy,” Kurt II snickered, “now go find me some lunch. A lot of folks around here deserve to die, you know.” 

  “Wait, whoa, whoa,” Sam sputtered, pushing the tendrils from his body, “I don’t know anyone that deserves to die.”

“Oh, Sam Evans, sure you do,” Kurt II drawled. Its long vines pulled Sam away from the door just as two figures stumbled into the store.

“Stupid dumbass, _Christ_ what a fucking scatterbrain!” David slammed open the door to Hudson’s Florists, shoving Kurt inside with a forceful push. 

Kurt fell to the floor, his entire body limp.   “I-I’m sorry David, I,” Kurt stammered, trembling.

“Now, get your goddamn wallet,” he roared.

“Y-Yes of course, David,” Kurt sputtered. He looked up and saw Sam staring at him with a look of confusion and fear. “Oh, hi Sam. I just forgot m-my wallet, and--”

“Come _on_ and move it you stupid slut. How do you like this dumb bitch?” David sneered at Sam. “Forgets his stupid wallet. Christ, if your fucking head weren’t screwed on--”   

Kurt faced David, wallet in hand, before David roughly smacked his palm against Kurt’s face. Sam gasped as Kurt collapsed heavy on the floor, cradling his face in his hands. A large red mark covered his cheek as tears brimmed in Kurt’s eyes.

Sam felt his blood pressure soar and his hands ball into fists as David yanked Kurt to his feet by his wrist. How fucking _dare_ this guy hit Kurt?   

“David, that hurt,” Kurt whispered, staring incredulously up at his boyfriend. 

  “Move it!” David shouted, hauling Kurt out of the store and smashing the door shut.   Sam stood dumbfounded, watching as the boy he loved was dragged down the street by some jackass who didn’t love him, who probably didn’t even care. His mind began to race -- what _else_ did he do to Kurt? How much did he actually hurt him?

“What a fucking asshole, I cannot believe he would treat Kurt like that. I just,” Sam huffed, his hands still in fists. 

  Kurt II just laughed, low and slowly. Weaving its tendril around Sam, it said, “You know what to do, Evans. So, go get it.” 

With a sharp nod, Sam headed towards Finn’s back office. Hidden from plain sight in his desk was a revolver, fully loaded. He placed it in his jacket pocket and made his way towards Karofsky’s dental office. Sam waited in the alley way until he saw David return from his date with Kurt. He knocked on the door, holding his breath. Sam knew this had to be done for the plant but especially for Kurt. 

David opened it with a bang, but his features softened when he noticed Sam. “Oh, hey Evans, what are you doing here at this hour?”   

“Tooth emergency,” Sam feigned happiness, holding his jaw in fake pain. “It really hurts, man. Think you can check it out?” 

  “I suppose. Step into my office,” David said, suspicion tracing his voice. He firmly held Sam by his upper arm and led him into a stark white room with a dental chair in the middle. David pushed Sam down and pulled restraints over his chest.   “I’m going to go into the back room, I don’t like to perform surgery unless I have a healthy dose of nitrous oxide in my system. Now, you stay put Evans. I can’t wait to work on your mouth.” David grinned dubiously at Sam and went into the other room.

Cautiously, Sam strained his arm and reached into his jacket pocket, retrieving the revolver. He could hear the whirring of gas from the other room, followed by the incessant cackling from David. He stumbled out towards Sam, wearing a large mask that covered his nose and mouth with a tube attached to a tank of nitrous oxide worn around his waist.   “Like what you see, Sam?” he giggled. David’s eyes narrowed when he noticed what Sam was holding. “A gun? What the fuck, you’re here to kill me?” He laughed. “You don’t have the guts, Evans.”

Sam sighed -- David was right -- and slowly lowered the gun to his lap. He watched as David staggered towards him, attempting to shut off the gas.   “Uh oh,” David chuckled, “the nozzle is stuck. Jesus Christ I could asphyxiate.” He moved to Sam, pawing at his hands. “Help me out, I’m going to die if you don’t take off this mask,” he laughed loudly.   

Sam flinched, but stood his ground. He kept his hands firmly placed in his lap, away from David’s mask. David collapsed to the floor in a fit of giggles, thrashing in place trying to pull the contraption off his face.

“Just cause I’m laughing doesn’t mean I don’t need help,” he chuckled. Sam sat there, frozen. If he left Karofsky to asphyxiate, he would be able to kill him with simple laissez-faire. 

  “You get you wish, Evans, I’m going to fucking die here,” David screamed, “I’m going to laugh my self to death.”   Sam watched as David squirmed for a couple minutes more before he lay motionless on the tiled floor. Sam inched his way out of the chair, free from the restraints, and pulled the mask off of his face.

Looking around, he dragged the body out the back of the dental office, through alleyways, until he reached the flower shop. Sam pushed David’s limp body down the stairs, wincing as it crashed at the foot of the staircase in a sickening _thud_. Sam clamored down to the body and grabbed an axe off the wall. 

“Ugh,” he moaned out loud. “This is for Kurt.”

He swung the axe over David’s arm and let it come crashing down, dismembering the limb from the torso. Sam began to wildly chop the dentist’s body into pieces, blood pooling and spraying all over walls and Sam’s clothes. He panted heavily as he stared as the grisly sight below, David’s mutilated corpse in a pile at his feet. Sam wrapped the severed limbs in newspaper and brought them upstairs to feed to Kurt II.

The plant cackled as it opened its mouth, waiting.   

“More!” it screamed as Sam threw in piece after piece. 

Once he had fed David’s body to Kurt II, he went back to his room to sop up the puddles of blood and to discard of David’s dentist uniform. Sam tossed the clothing and rags into the dumpster behind the shop and headed for the store front, observing Kurt II grow at least three feet in height. 

He sighed as he looked at his hands, stained crimson with blood. There was no turning back now.


	2. Act II

The Hudson Brother’s Lima Heights Florists was booming with business rolling in by the hour. The shop had undergone renovation upon renovation with all of the money pouring in from customers all wanting to buy flowers from the shop that housed the illustrious Kurt II. Day by day, Kurt and Sam were kept busy as they answered phones, created floral arrangements, and entertained customers with tales of the plant.

Sam’s favourite parts of the day were stolen moments with Kurt -- little glances from the corners of their eyes, the brushing of fingertips when they both reached for the same roll of tape, or the awkward dance amongst the throngs of customers. Every time he looked over at Kurt, Sam felt his typical feelings of love and adoration mixed with guilt and remorse. He couldn’t help but think of David, his mangled body digesting inside Kurt II, and how Sam ripped Kurt’s boyfriend away from him. Even though David Karofsky was a terrible human being, was murder really the answer?

It was the three week anniversary of David’s disappearance and Lima Heights was still abuzz with conspiracy theories and gossip. Sam couldn’t go anywhere in the neighborhood without hearing about the missing dentist. Did he run away? Did he kill himself? Was he _murdered_? Sam would squeeze these rumors from his mind and continue on his way. He just focused on Kurt, how all of this was for him, and how he would do anything to protect the boy he loved.

That evening as Kurt and Sam were clearing up the shop, Kurt asked Sam to walk him home. 

“I just don’t like walking by myself at night. Ever since David’s disappearance, Lima Heights has become even more dangerous,” Kurt said, biting his lip in anticipation.

Sam happily obliged and linked his arm with Kurt’s, leading him outside and down the block. The two walked mostly in silence, with Sam interrupting the awkwardness every so often with a joke, or funny remark overheard from a customer. Kurt would just giggle quietly, his gaze never drifting from the pavement below. 

When they reached the stoop of Kurt’s apartment, Sam broke apart and placed his hand soothingly on the other boy’s shoulder. 

“Hey, I know today is a tough day for you, but don’t let yourself get down, okay? You have a ton of people who, like, care about you and stuff,” Sam reassured Kurt, rubbing his arm carefully.   Kurt looked down at Sam’s hand before making eye contact with the other boy. Sam was taken aback when he saw tears welling and spilling down Kurt’s cheeks. 

“I, I,” Kurt stammered, wiping his eyes furiously, “can you come inside?”

Sam nodded quickly and took the keys from the boy’s hand, unlocking the door. He lead Kurt over to the tiny couch in his under-furnished living room and sat him down firmly. Sam looked to the kitchen and saw, tacked on the fridge, was his drawing. Feeling his heart in his throat, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Kurt turned to Sam, his face flushed and lip trembling. Taking in a deep breath, he sobbed, “It’s just. It’s been three weeks since David’s been gone and I feel so _guilty_. Every day I would wish that something would happen -- that he’d leave me, he’d find someone else, anything -- and now that it’s finally happened, I just feel so awful.” He buried his head in the crook of Sam’s neck and wailed, his fingers gripping the lapels of Sam’s jacket. 

“Hey, it’s okay. This is for the best, Kurt. David was a total douchebag. He treated you horribly and you just. You deserve so much more, Kurt. Someone who will love you and, like, take care of you.” Sam flinched as he felt Kurt freeze next to him. 

Slowly, Kurt looked up at Sam’s face, which was etched with apprehension.   “You think so?” Kurt sniffed. He ran a finger under his nose, an action that would be disgusting on anyone but Kurt, and gave a small smile.

Swallowing, Sam started, “I _know_ so. Kurt,” he paused, “I’ve been in love with you from the moment I saw you. You were just so beautiful, but also kind of sad and I just -- I wanted to help you, to show you that you’re so much more than someone’s boyfriend.” He wiped a tear streaming down Kurt’s cheek and looked at him, waiting.

Kurt leaned away, bringing his hands to his mouth. “You’re in love with me?” His exhalation turned into a laugh, his fingers firmly intertwining with Sam’s. “You _love_ me?”

Sam blushed and looked away. “Yeah, for a while. I’d do anything for you, Kurt.”

He felt his face being dragged forward as Kurt slid his fingers into Sam’s hair, their lips pressing together. Sam’s breath caught in his throat as Kurt scratched his fingers along his scalp and slide his mouth tenderly across Sam’s. 

“Kurt,” Sam murmured against the other boy’s mouth. Kurt responded by deepening the kiss, skating his tongue along Sam’s lips, urging his mouth open. Sam complied and cupped Kurt’s jaw in his hands. He leaned backwards on the couch, pulling Kurt on top. 

Sam moaned as Kurt kissed down his neck, sucking on the sensitive flesh of his collarbone. He ran his hands along Kurt’s back, resting his palms on his hips. Kurt lifted his head to place a chaste kiss upon Sam’s swollen lips.   “I’ve wanted this too, Sam. It just took me longer to realize.” Kurt brushed a loose strand of blond hair behind Sam’s ears and smiled affectionately. 

“What made you realize?” Sam grinned, trailing the pads of his fingertips across Kurt’s shoulder. 

  “Just, recent circumstances.” Kurt slipped his hand under Sam’s t-shirt and gripped his waist as he gently mouthed along Sam’s neck.

Sam frowned -- _Does he like me because I’m famous? Because I have money?_ \-- as Kurt continued to work his way along his collarbone, his fingernails scratching Sam’s chest. This was everything Sam could have dreamed of -- he had money, fame, _Kurt_ \-- but the notion that this man only wanted him _because_ of his newfound glory was disconcerting. Still, he couldn’t ignore the needy way Kurt rutted his hips against Sam’s thigh and moaned into his ear; he’s waited too long for this moment.

“Kurt,” he breathed, turning his head to catch Kurt’s mouth with his lips. Sam slipped his palm from around Kurt’s hips towards the front of his jeans, brushing his fingertips along the zipper. The other boy groaned into Sam’s mouth, drawing himself closer around Sam’s neck.

Sam paused before Kurt nodded his head, his lips never breaking contact with Sam’s. Slowly, Sam unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zipper down. He held his breath as little by little he inched his fingers into the waistband of Kurt’s underwear. Sam felt the heat from Kurt’s hardened cock, causing his face to flush and his own dick twitch in response. 

Kurt gasped sharply as Sam lightly wrapped his fingers around Kurt’s erection, thumbing the head of his cock as he smeared the small beads of precome. Sam began a steady rhythm, dragging his hand down the shaft while sucking Kurt’s tongue into his mouth. The other boy groaned, breaking his lips away to bury his face in Sam’s hair, releasing high-pitched _ah_ s into Sam’s ear. Sam braced himself on the couch as Kurt began to cant his hips forward, his fingers clasped tightly around Sam’s face and neck. 

With a stutter of his hips and a loud, breathy groan, Kurt came thick, white stripes over Sam’s hand and onto his shirt. Sam gently pressed his lips to Kurt’s cheek as the other boy came down from his orgasm. With shaky hands, Sam rubbed his back soothingly, holding him close against his chest.

Kurt glanced at Sam, his eyes half-lidded as a look of contentment washed over his face. He reached down to undo fly of Sam’s pants, but was firmly stopped by Sam’s fingertips. 

“We should run away,” Sam suggested, his voice hoarse, “and go to New York. You dream of being on Broadway, and I dream of being an artist. Honestly though, I just dream about being with you; away from this place, away from that plant. Just you and me in the city of our dreams.”

He waited, eyes wandering over Kurt’s face, searching for hints of his thoughts. “I promise, Kurt, I will devote the rest of my life to making you happy.”

Kurt looked at Sam, earnest and just so _innocent_ , and said “Yes. Okay.” He broke out into a giggle and pressed his lips against the corner of Sam’s mouth. “Of course I’ll go with you, Sam. When should we leave?” 

  “Now,” Sam answered sternly. “We should go now.”  

“Wait, now?” Kurt scrunched his nose.   

“Yeah, now,” he echoed. “You start packing and come by the shop in a half hour. We can start our life together.” He placed one last kiss to Kurt’s mouth before standing up.   Kurt walked him to the door and smiled shyly from the stoop, waving as Sam jogged back to the store. 

While Sam was elated he would be finally leaving this hellhole with the boy of his dreams, he was nervous. What if Kurt was only interested in him because of his money? The boy never showed that much of an interest in Sam before, so why now? Also, Sam couldn’t shake the nagging thoughts in the back of his brain about Kurt II. The plant needed _bodies_ now. Who would it devour with Sam gone?

Shuddering, Sam skipped into Hudson Brothers Florists, eager to start over fresh. He opened the back door and was about to head towards his room when Finn emerged from the store room.   

“Oh, hey Sam. Where are you going?”   Sam froze and turned towards Finn, who was standing with his arms crossed and a scowl plastered over his face.   

“Um, just, downstairs,” he stammered. He made his way for the door, but was held in place as Finn yanked his arm backwards.   

“For weeks, man, I’ve thought there was some weird shit going on with you. Ever since Karofsky disappeared you’ve been all happy and stuff. Like, I know it’s super obvious you’re in love with Kurt, but something wasn’t right.” He stopped, his grip tightening around Sam’s forearm. “I was just out for a walk about an hour ago and I saw you walking Kurt to his apartment, holding arms and shit.”   

Sam glared, “That’s none of your business, _brother_. Let me go,” he flailed, trying to free himself from Finn’s grasp. 

  “That might not be my business,” he paused, pulling Sam to the corner. He hauled out a ball of clothes from behind Kurt II’s pot, “but _this_ is. I found these in the dumpster outside _my_ store.”

He shoved the clothing into Sam’s arms. Sam’s heart skipped a beat when he realized that Finn discovered David’s bloody dentist uniform.   

“Fuck,” Sam breathed, sweat beading at his temple. He looked up at Finn, whose face was contorted in disgust.

“I have to call the police, Sam. I don’t want to, but like, I have to protect the business and you killing people and shit here isn’t good. You gotta give them a statement.”   

“I didn’t do anything, Finn,” Sam mumbled, still struggling.

Finn just gazed down on him, knowing.

Sighing in defeat, Sam whispered, “Fine.”

“I’m going to go in the back room to get some other stuff I found from your _suspicious activity_ , but stay put.” Finn clapped Sam’s shoulder, sending him a weak smile. “I’m just looking out for you.”

Finn left for the back room as Sam slumped to the floor, burying his hands in his face.   

“You’ve got no place to run now, kid. I think it’s suppertime,” a deep voice drawled through the store. Sam opened his eyes and stared at Kurt II, whose vines slithered over to Sam.

“Dude, stop, he’s totally figured everything out. Me trying to kill him isn’t gonna help.” 

  The plant laughed, its vines wrapping around the windowsill. “What about your future with Kurt, hmm? Finn telling the police is going to put the kibosh on that and poor little Kurt is going to fall madly in love with someone else who has your fame and success. We don’t want that, do we?”

“No,” Sam muttered. 

  “Atta boy, Evans. When Finn is gone, the world will be yours. Just _feed me_.” Kurt II lifted Sam’s face with one of its tendrils.

Sam stood up tentatively as Finn entered the room.   “Okay, so Sam, I’m going to call the police and you just tell them _exactly_ what happened.” Finn turned his back to Sam and started rummaging through a tote bag. 

Sam watched as Kurt II’s vines slithered across the floor, hanging in mid air hesitantly behind Finn. He nodded swiftly to the plant and stumbled backwards as Kurt II wrapped its tendrils around Finn’s legs and waist, hoisting him into the air.

“What the hell is going on?” Finn screamed, struggling to wriggle free from Kurt II’s grasp. 

Sam choked and covered his face before he was sprayed with warm blood. The plant began to rip off Finn’s limbs one by one as the boy screamed, his cries reverberating throughout the shop. He could heard the sound of bones cracking as they were separated from their sinew. Sam swallowed hard when the room turned silent. He looked over at Kurt II, who was licking the last drop of Finn from its wide lips. The floor below was stained crimson, the walls splattered with blood.   

“You made the right choice, Evans. I’ll grow another two feet for you,” Kurt II chuckled. 

Expecting Kurt to arrive any minute, Sam dashed to the phone on his desk and dialed Kurt’s number. He couldn’t come to the store in this condition, not with Finn’s blood soaking the walls.

After six rings, Kurt answered. 

“Hey Kurt, it’s me. I don’t think we can leave just yet. Yeah, um, Finn called and said that Burt had another heart attack and he was going to have to stay with him for a while. Since I’m, like, partner now I gotta run stuff. I promise we’ll do this.” He paused. “I love you. So much.”

Hanging up the phone, Sam exhaled a slow and steady breath as Kurt II watched, cackling. 

The next week, the atmosphere around the flower shop was changing. With every day that passed, Sam began to slink deeper and deeper with guilt, frightened that if he killed too many people, he would be caught. Finn wasn’t the brightest light and even _he_ was able to figure out that Sam was a murderer. 

However, with every passing day, Kurt became happier. He would sing freely around the shop, leave lingering touches upon Sam’s body, and even steal away for passionate kisses in the store room. 

Sam loved Kurt so much but he was so frightened; he had dug themselves so deep. 

Sometimes, Sam tried to rationalize his actions in his mind, convincing himself that everything was worth it.   Whenever he and Kurt closed up shop for the evening, the two went out on small dates -- a dinner here, a movie there. As soon as thoughts of David’s mutilated corpse, or Finn’s dismembered body would creep in his mind, they would be crushed when Kurt placed his lips upon Sam’s. Every touch from Kurt sent shivers through his spine; Sam had waited years for this. 

The two boys spent every hour they could together. The drops of blood that stained the shop’s walls and floors didn’t mean anything to Sam when he would wake up in the early morning, cocooned in blankets with Kurt’s warm arms wrapped around his waist. He’d watch the peaceful brunet breathe heavy from slumber, his fingers curling around Sam’s in his sleep, and feel a painful twinge in his chest. 

Still, coming to the store, hand in hand with Kurt, and noticing the colossal plant tower over them _was_ enough to cause discomfort.

Early in the week, a short brunette with a perky, overconfident attitude entered the shop. She flit her eyes between Kurt and Sam and spoke up. 

  “Hello, I am looking for a Mr. Samuel Evans?” she asked, flashing a dazzling white smile.   Sam approached the woman, Kurt standing behind expectantly.   

“Hello Sam, I’m Rachel Berry from NBC,” she said, sticking out her hand, “and I am here to convince you, young man, to come do a weekly TV show for our network. We’ll call it ‘Sam Evans’ Gardening Tips’ and it’ll be a quick half hour segment wherein you discuss anything you want regarding the subject. Don’t waste an opportunity like this, Sam. They don’t come very often.” 

She waved her business card in front of Sam’s face and beamed when he reluctantly took it from her grasp. Rachel waved to the boys and left the store. 

Kurt wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist, crooking his chin over Sam’s shoulder as he read the card. “NBC! You’ll get to go out to California or,” he gasped, “New York! Think about this, please. Can you imagine us actually making it there?” He smiled and kissed Sam’s cheek. Sam just stood there, staring blankly at the card in his hands. 

The next day, as Sam was arranging a bouquet of lilies, a woman decked out in a leopard print dress with matching high heels visited the florist.   

“Excuse me everyone, I am looking for _the_ Sam Evans?”   

“This is him,” Kurt grinned, dragging Sam in front of the woman. Sam gave her a small smile as she squealed. She clutched Sam’s arm, running her hand along his back. 

  “I’m Sugar Motta, the pleasure is all yours, of course. I work for _LIFE_ Magazine and we want your cute little butt to be on next month’s cover! Hows about we send someone down next Thursday and take a picture of you and your beautiful plant?” She cocked her eyebrow, snapping a piece of gum between her teeth.

Kurt nodded, “Of _course_ he’d love that Miss. Motta. We’ll be here, waiting.”

She clapped her hands together. “Excellent. See you later, hot stuff,” she winked at the boys and sashayed out the door.

“Honey, I’m so proud of you! Everyone wants a piece of Sam Evans. Too bad he’s all mine,” Kurt laughed, leaning in to kiss Sam tenderly. Sam just stood there, his eyes flitting towards Kurt II, hardly responding to his boyfriend’s touch. 

Friday afternoon, an hour before closing, a woman with a piercing glare and dark hair in a high ponytail thrust open the door to Hudson Brothers Florists.   “You Evans?” she asked, looking at Sam. When he nodded, she gave him a small smile before she dove into her briefcase, retrieving a stack of papers.

“I’m Santana Lopez, William Morris Agency. My firm wants to represent you and book you on lecturing tours. We planned for you to travel across the nation, giving speeches at various universities and college campuses regarding your magnificent plant. This is a lucrative offer, Evans, and I highly suggest you take it. Now, do you want to sign the contract?” She held out the papers and a pen, waiting for him to accept.

Sam grimaced. With every offer he accepted, it drove him to do more devious things. In order to continue on his path towards success and keep Kurt happy, he would need to murder to ensure the plant didn’t die. While he the notion of selling his soul was sickening, he couldn’t stop thinking about Kurt. He looked over to his _boyfriend_ , who was singing and arranging flowers in a vase absentmindedly. Sam needed the success to make Kurt happy. 

Reluctantly, he took the contract from Santana and scribbled his signature across. She handed him a copy of the agreement and stuck hers in the briefcase.   “You did good, kid. We’ll call you in two weeks. In the meantime, my firm was planning on selling Kurt II’s throughout America. Imagine one of those babies in every household. Here,” she handed him a flyer, “a gardening team will arrive tomorrow to take some leaf cuttings. Have a good evening.” She gave a curt nod before swinging the door shut behind. 

Kurt came over and bundled Sam in a hug. “Sam, I’m so proud of you. You take my breath away every day, you’re just so incredible.”

“You are too,” Sam said quietly. He looked past his boyfriend’s shoulder to where Kurt II stood, mouth open as its tendrils fluttered in the air. Sam glared and the plant and mouthed _NO!_

“I’m going to kill that stupid thing,” he muttered under his breath. 

  Kurt pulled back, looking confused. “What are you talking about?” 

  Sam exhaled sharply. “I just, I can’t take it anymore. I don’t like all these people, like, wanting me to do things. I just can’t handle it,” he groaned. 

“Hey, shh, Sam. It’s okay.” Kurt soothed him by running his fingers through Sam’s hair. “Just make it through the month, alright? We need this, though. We need the money so you and I can live out our dreams in New York.”

“Yeah, I know. Just, you should go home Kurt. I think I need to be alone tonight. I have to work on this stupid lecture now and I just need some space, you know?” Sam rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the ground.

“Oh, okay,” Kurt replied, slowly. He kissed the side of Sam’s cheek. “Feel better.”

He pulled on his jacket and waved to Sam as he left the store. Sam moaned out loud and collapsed on his desk chair. 

“Sammm,” hissed a voice from the corner, “I’m starving.”

“No,” Sam shouted, “I’m tired of friggin’ killing people for you, dude. I can’t do it anymore.”   

“Sure you can, Sam. Kurt would want you to, look how happy he is now that you’re booking all these deals.” Kurt II wrapped a vine around his arm and rubbed. “All I’m asking is for one teensy treat.”   

Sam stood up in a huff. “No people, I’ll go find you like a cat or something. _Don’t_ do anything while I’m gone.” He picked up his jacket and stormed out the door. 

He walked around the block about ten times, wandering aimlessly. Sam needed to stop doing this; Kurt II was getting out of control. It towered over everyone in the store, its tendrils seemed to extend for miles. The more Sam fed it, the bigger it would grow until it ultimately took over everything. 

Was all this really worth it? Sam pinched his nose in frustration. He didn’t want to go back to the shop and see that _thing_ standing there, a constant reminder of his guilt. Sam wished he could just leave right now, Kurt in hand. He knew he couldn’t -- Kurt wanted him to go on lecturing tours and be in magazines. Sam just wanted to make Kurt happy. 

After circling around the shop a dozen times, he finally decided to go inside. As Sam opened the door, he was met with screams and cries echoing through the store. From inside Kurt II’s mouth, there were a pair of legs furiously kicking as the plant’s vines wrapped themselves along the limbs, forcing the body in deeper.   Sam burst through the store and began to punch at the pod.  

“Twoey, stop, let go!” he screamed shrilly.

The plant relented and opened its mouth. The pit of Sam’s stomach dropped and his heart clenched in his chest when, falling limp from the plant’s mouth, was Kurt. His body hit the floor with a sickening clunk.   

“Oh _nonono_ , Kurt,” Sam whispered, diving to the other boy’s feet. Kurt was covered in blood, deep punctures from the plant’s teeth pierced through his arms, legs, and torso. He looked up at Sam with cloudy, blue eyes and coughed, gurgling up mouthfuls of blood. 

  “S-Sam,” he breathed, struggling to grab the collar of Sam’s shirt. “I just wanted to say goodnight.”

Sam felt the sting of tears behind his eyes as they welled and spilt over his cheeks. “It’s okay, Kurt. I’m here now. I’m never leaving you. Please, please don’t die,” he sobbed, holding Kurt’s body tight against his chest. He ran his fingertips over the ruptures in Kurt’s skin -- punctures so deep that muscle and bones were exposed.   

“Your plant can talk you know,” Kurt laughed, blood trailing down his chin. “It said David and F-Finn were inside?”

Sam nodded, his fingers intertwining with Kurt’s. “It-it’s true,” he stumbled, “I did it. I fed them to the plant, that’s why it got all big and strong and stuff. I did it for you, for _us_. I knew you’d love me if I could bring us money and a chance out of here.” Tears rolled down Sam’s face as he stared at his boyfriend, whose ragged breathing was becoming heavy.   

Kurt tried to laugh, but it turned into a wheezing cough. He spit up more blood as his eyes spilled their own tears.   “Sam, I don’t care that you have money now. I’ve been in love with you for _years_ , it just took me a while to see this. I’ve always dreamed of moving away and living with you and only you,” he brought his trembling hand to Sam’s face. “I just love _you_.”

Sam clutched Kurt’s hand around his cheek. “I know, I love you too. Come on, Kurt, you can make it.” 

  Kurt’s eyes rolled back in his head before his eyelids fluttered shut. “S-Sam, I...” he trailed off. 

Sam whimpered as Kurt’s body fell slack in his arms. “No, please Kurt, please,” he pleaded. He kissed Kurt’s forehead over and over, ignoring the metallic tang of blood staining his lips. Sam doubled over Kurt’s body, his blood seeping through Sam’s clothes.   “Please,” he whispered into Kurt’s chest. When he received no response, he gently laid the body of the love of his life on the tiled floor. He gingerly stroked Kurt’s face, pushing his hair that was matted with blood, behind his ears.

Sam stood up, anger coursing through his veins.   “ _You_ did this! You killed the only person I ever loved. For years I’ve been stupidly in love with him and you just tore it all away from me.”

“Too bad,” the plant smirked.   

“You ruined everything,” he screamed. Sam was unhinged; he had nothing left. 

Kurt II laughed long and deep, waving a tendril in Sam’s face. “Calm down, boy, it’ll be okay. Let me take care of the body, it’s what your boyfriend would have wanted.”   

Sam was seething with rage. He smacked the vine out of his face as hard as he could. 

“Don’t you fucking tell me what Kurt would have wanted, dude. I will kill you for this.”   He walked over to his desk in search of anything that would annihilate that thing. Sam wanted to destroy that plant the same way it destroyed him. 

Sam noticed Santana’s contracts on the table and the advertisement flyer for Kurt II on top. He crumbled the paper in his fist, trying not to focus on his hands soaked in Kurt’s blood.   

“Every household across America,” he stated. “This was your plan the whole time, wasn’t it? Just to like come here and destroy everything?”   

Kurt II cackled maniacally. “Boy, do I want to thank you. Without you, Evans, none of this would’ve happen.”

Sam’s heart was racing. How could he have been this stupid? He knew he needed to kill this plant, that _thing_ before it could destroy the country. Sam yanked open the drawer and retrieved the gun. He pointed it as Kurt II and shot, rapid fire. The plant just laughed as the bullets deflected off its body, barely piercing the flesh. 

  “Give it _up_ , Sam. You’re no match for me,” it drawled. It slithered a shoot of tendrils at Sam, wrapping around his body with a constrictive force. 

Sam twisted and beat the vines with his fists.   “Fuck,” he gasped as the plant lifted him into the air, pulling him close to its mouth. 

Sam stared down at the floor, smeared with Kurt’s blood. With tear filled eyes, he laid his gaze upon his boyfriend, lying motionless but still looking beautiful -- almost serene.   

“I love you,” Sam whispered.

Before Kurt II could drop him into its waiting mouth, Sam raised the revolver to his temple.

 _Bang_.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from a musical number omitted from the original production called "We'll Have Tomorrow"


End file.
